Descendents
by colorfulcheerios
Summary: When Draco accepts Harry’s offer for protection, He and the Hogwarts cast embark on an adventure to bring down Voldemort and save the life of one muggle boy. Takes place between HBP and DH.
1. Chapter 1

Hey, All!! So, (to my faithful readers) I know i said i wasn't going to start any more of my many stories, but i decided that i want to so... i am! yay!! Right? lol. anyways... this one unlike What's a girl to do? is already prewritten... actually it has a sequel! (Yes, you may squeal!) I am however writing it from memory, because since i moved i haven't found everything i packed... it's there somewhere ... i swear!! But i do remember the basics, so it will be slightly different, but mostly the same as the one in my note book. But, you really won't know the difference...sooo... oh, well. Just so you know... sadly this is not a SB/HG fic, but a DM/GW fic... which is another ship i am fond of. But, anyways enjoy it, savor it, hate it, i don't really care... Just REVIEW it!! love you all, and i'm sure any new readers i take on I'll love as well!!

xoxo

shannon

DISCLAIMER: NOPE! NOT MINE!...yet...muwhahahahahaha

Draco Malfoy,

I would like to extend to you the same offer Dumbledore did before his death. I don't know where Snape took you after his betrayal or if you can even escape, but the offer stands. You didn't kill Dumbledore and for that you I am willing to give you protection here at the Order's head quarters. You will find, if you truly accept this offer, that you will know where to go. Your mother will also be included in this offer, though if she has any thoughts of betrayal it is negated. Be warned.

Harry Potter

Harry, in all truth, found this letter difficult to write. It's not that he didn't truly mean what he had written, but more so that he couldn't vanquish his long held grudges towards the boy. But Draco, in his eyes, had proven something that fateful night. That no matter what petty superiority complexes Lucius had implanted in the boy, he wasn't evil. A git? Yes. Evil? Not quite.

He attached the letter to a large barn owl he had paid to use at the post office in Diagon Alley and threw it out into the night.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo (TO YOU)

Draco lounged on his king size bed while nursing a particularly hideous cut on his arm. His whole body, in fact, was one big wound. His father was furious when it was revealed to him that Snape was forced to do the task… the one measly task assigned to his son, of killing Hogwarts' Headmaster. His father had, after sufficiently punishing Draco, set out on the task of teaching his son how to be a true man… a Death Eater. Lucius was becoming more enraged by the day.

Draco muttered a spell his mother had given him, trying fruitlessly to heal the wound. His father was persistent in his efforts to make each wound as painful and long lasting as wizardly possible without killing him. He sighed in frustration and pain when the wound didn't change. In a fit of anger he threw his wand across the room, hitting the window with a flash of silver sparks. His wand fell to the floor and his window flew open with a gust of wind.

Normally he would have left it, enjoying the summer's breeze, but he could hear from below the voices of Death Eaters. He jumped from his bed, hastily picking up his wand and shutting the window with a soft snap. He turned back to his bed and almost screamed in fright before laughing slightly in relief. He had become jittery in the past weeks as is father showed up for 'lessons' at all hours. But, it wasn't his father hulking in the shadows or some fierce beast his father had sent to him to kill, but a lowly barn owl holding out its leg.

Still annoyed with himself for being jumpy, Draco took the letter and opened the window so the bird could fly off into the night. Once the bird was gone, Draco wished it had stayed. Draco sighed to himself. When the only live-being interaction you've had is from psycho-axe murder-delusional-power hungry-warped-Death Eaters and or similar beings of the non-human sort, one can suffer from attention withdrawal. Draco plopped back down on his bed, hissed as his bruised body came in contact with the mattress, and opened his letter.

His face slowly became a frown as he read, before he crumpled up the parchment and hurled it across the room (though since it was only paper, it barely made it past the end of his obnoxiously large bed). He sighed in frustration, as if he would go live with the order. He shuttered at the thought. That would be worse then living here… which was pretty much what hell must be like, Draco mused. Heaven or Hell? Were those his options? But, maybe it wouldn't be so bad living with the order. No Lucius, no Dark Lord, no monsters hell bent on killing him. Hmm.

Draco debated in his head about accepting the offer of from Pothead. He still hadn't come up with a decision when his door flew open and crashed into the wall before swinging back around and almost hitting the door opener in the face. The door opened again, less violently and Draco saw a startled and wide-eyed Peter Pettigrew standing there.

"You… Your father wishes to see you," he said sounding dazed and Draco had to suppress a snicker. Then it dawned on him what the squat man had said and he groaned… loudly.

Draco walked slowly down the hall after Peter who was mumbling at himself. When he entered his father's study Peter left him, closing the door behind him and thus leaving Draco alone in a pitch black room. The only sound was soft, erratic breathing and barely audible sounds of pain. Draco fidgeted. So, like his father to leave him in the dark with only bodiless noises as company … makes entrances more impressive. Just as he thought, moments later sickly green flames burst up around the room, making it look ire. Draco scanned the room and flinched back upon seeing it. A small figure lay in the middle of the room, unconscious.

"Draco," his father drawled, starling him. "I see you have found tonight's lesson. The Dark Lord has decided it is time you joined the ranks of his followers. It is quite an honor son. One I do not believe you have earned. You will have only one final test, before fulfilling your destiny." His cruel eye descended upon the figure who let out another painful sob. "Kill it," his father said harshly, his voice like knives. "Kill the muggle swine and make me proud."

The figure rolled over and Draco saw it's face. It was a boy, a young boy, no older than seven. He had sandy brown hair and a light complexion. His face was contorted in pain and his face was blue.

"No," Draco whispered, feeling nauseous.

"Do it," shrieked his father. "The boy will suffer until you do."

Draco spun and lurched for the door, fleeing the room. Bile rose in his throat and he bent double, heaving.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so here is chapter two. So, this isn't one of my favorite chapters… I rewrote it a couple times. I know how it went in my notebook, I can practically see it for crying out loud, but I can't get it to be right.. But, I finally settled… maybe I'll change it later…maybe. Not much happening in this one… just getting the setting established and all. It might take a few chapters to really get some action going.

Xoxo

shannon

"But, Mom," Ginny whined as she watched everyone don raincoats and rubber boots. "I'm only a year younger then Ron! Why can't I go too?"

"I said, No!" snapped the plumb woman as she slid her foot into her boot. "You are far too young. So is your brother for that matter and if it wasn't for your father insisting he come he would be staying home too!"

Ginny grumbled to herself as the large group of people walk out into the stormy night. She watched as they were lit up from behind when a crack of lighting hit down not far from the house.

"Don't worry, Gin. I'll tell you all the good stuff," Harry whispered as he walked by her and Ginny let a small smile play across her lips.

"Now be good, Ginny. We'll be back soon." Ginny's smile faded as she watched the door swing closed. Another Order meeting she was excluded from. At least in the past Harry, Hermione, and Ron hadn't been able to attend either, but now she was alone and oh did it aggravate her.

She grabbed a cookie as she stormed from the kitchen and into the living room. Now what was she supposed to do while they were gone. Talk to herself? For once she wished she had one of those tellyvisioms that Hermione had told her about. She picked up one of her Teen Witch magazines and flipped through it, but after a few minutes flung it form herself with a huff. How utterly dull!

She rose from the chair and turned on the radio, but all she got was static. She tried turning the dial, but as a crash of thunder shook the house she knew it was no good. She suppressed the urge to scream as she sat back down in the chair. She kicked off her shoes and leaned back listening to the storm as it slowly lulled her to sleep.

The sound of pounding on the door made her jump into a sitting position. She stared around her alertly as she sprung from the chair. The pounding sounded again and she raced through the house. They were home! Finally, she thought. She ran to the door and flung it open, before freezing. A hooded figure stood in the doorway, slouched over as it held something large in its arms. If she had taken a moment to think, she would have realized that her parents wouldn't have knocked! They lived at the Burrow; they wouldn't need to knock!

"Please," croaked the figure, stumbling towards her. Ginny backed away. "I need to see Harry." He collapsed to his knees just inside the kitchen.

"Harry isn't here," Ginny said weakly. The voice sounded vaguely familiar.

"Great," he groaned. "Ginny, I need your help." The figure uncovered the heap he held in his arms. Ginny gasped. It was a child.

"What did you do to him?" Ginny cried, fleeing the room and running towards the bathroom. She grabbed a armful of towels and ran back, falling to her knees and pulling the young boy into her arms.

As she striped the boy from his wet clothing she wrapped him in big towels.

"My father was going to have him killed. I saved him." Ginny head whipped around. The figure had pulled back his hood, exposing his face.

"Oh, God!"

"No, Draco." he said dully, grabbing one of the towels and pressing his face into it.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny ground out, pulling the small boy closer to herself.

"Harry," he said, pulling a crinkled and slightly damp letter from his pocket and handing it to her. She quickly scanned it before giving a tight nod. She didn't want to believe it. She shouldn't believe it. But it was Harry's writing on her own peach scented parchment, a piece of which Harry had used a few days previous.

"What's wrong with him," she asked Malfoy, motioning towards the boy in her lap. "Why won't he wake up?"

"He's just unconscious. I think my father tortured him." He sounded like even speaking the words made him want to be sick. It was then that Ginny actually looked at him. Really looked at Malfoy. His face was covered in bruises and cuts and as he took off his cloak she saw his arms were in the same condition.

"I'll be right back," Ginny mumbled, gently laying the boy down and fleeing the room again. She felt sickened. She might not like Malfoy, but what his father did to him was grotesque. And that poor boy. She felt like puking. She paused at the top of the stairs, breathing deeply.

She rummaged through her brothers' old clothing, finding anything that might fit Malfoy or the child. When she return her arms were filled with garments of all sizes. She dumped them in a pile next to Malfoy before going to retrieve her wand.

When she returned Malfoy was picking through the pile and the boy already had on a pair of slightly too big black wool pants. His face was blue as though he couldn't breath properly and his body was covered in physical wounds. She didn't even want to think about how many times he had been tortured where no physical marks were left. She shuttered as Malfoy pulled a red long-sleeved shirt over the boys head.

Ginny gently sat down next to Malfoy and the boy and started muttering healing spells she had learned from her mother. One by one each of the wounds magically healed.

"But, I tried that before I left. They wouldn't heal," Malfoy said as he looked on with disbelief.

"Maybe you were doing it wrong," Ginny suggested as she healed the last visible wound. She then turned to Draco and started healing his wounds. "Stop it," she scolded when he flinched away from her wand tip.

When she was finished, both of the boys before her looked almost as good as new. Almost. Ginny helped Draco find clothes that were close to his size and then left the room, levitating the boy with her. She laid him on the couch, pulling a thick blanket over him. She then sat down in front of the couch and leaned her head back.

She just couldn't believe Harry had invited… _Malfoy_ to the Burrow. He must have mused Ginny, there is no other way that he could know how to get to the Burrow; It was protect and no one could find it unless told by someone.

She looked up when Draco entered. He was dressed in a pair of baggy jeans and a faded yellow shirt. His hair was damp and hung in tendrils around his face. He came over and sat next to Ginny, staring at the unconscious boy.

"Explain," Ginny said.

Xoxoxoxoxoxo

"What the hell is he doing here?"

The sound of yelling made Ginny jerk awake. She stared around her. Malfoy was sitting next to her looking dazed and the boy was still sleeping peacefully. Her parents, George, Fred, Ron, and Hermione were all standing in the doorway. Ron's face was the color of his hair and she guessed it had been him who had yelled.

"Ronald!" her mother scolded. "There is no reason to yell."

"What is he doing here?" Ron said again, less loudly this time.

Malfoy opened his mouth but Ginny cut him off. "It's none of your business what he is doing here, Ronald."

"It's my house so I think it is my business!"

"Shut up, Ron!" Ginny snapped.

"He's a Death Eater," roared Ron.

"Ron. Calm down," Harry spoke this time, just having entered the living room. "I invited him."

"You invited him?" asked Arthur as Ron made chocking noises.

"Yes," Harry nodded, looking solemn. "Dumbledore offered him protection and even though he is… gone I think that offer should still stand."

"But, he's a Death Eater," Ron said again, barely containing his temper.

"He didn't kill Dumbledore," Harry said. "He would have accepted the offer then and that's all that matters."

**R&R please!! **


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